Some Things Need To Be Taught
by BeaValkyrie
Summary: From a tumblr prompt. Deviates from canon after 9x02. Castiel has joined up with the Winchesters in the bunker, but some human routines, little things, still confuse him and of course, Dean takes it upon himself to help.


"Dean?" Castiel's voice, unusually small and sounding more than a little worried, sounded from the top level of the bunker.

Dean looked up from the laptop tiredly, and rubbed a hand over his eyes. His eyes drawn to the clock in the corner of the computer screen, he sighed. Three o'clock in the morning and he'd found next to nothing. No angel news, no demon news, _nothing_.

Sam, if it really was Sam at that moment, had gone to his own room a couple of hours ago, claiming tiredness and a headache. Ezekiel had been quiet enough for the last couple of days, but Dean was never sure of when he'd appear, regardless. And Cas… Well, who knew what was going on with Cas right then? Not Dean, for sure

He'd been back with them for a couple of days now, and after the surprised greetings, all of them thankful to see him, _but none so relieved as Dean, _Castiel had been extremely quiet, unwilling to intrude on their research, seeming almost to be avoiding them. And Dean didn't want to push him. He didn't know what the guy had been through on his way there, and as far as he was concerned, if Cas wanted to tell them, he would. Dean wasn't going to be the one to force it out of him.

"Dean?" Cas' voice called again, a little louder. Dean pushed his chair back, closing the laptop with a soft click and getting up just as he saw Castiel peering over the balcony.

"Yeah?" Dean replied, walking slowly over to the stairs. "Dude, it's three in the morning. Thought you were… sleeping." The fact that he needed rest was still a sore topic for Cas, Dean supposed because it was just another reminder of how painfully _human_ he was now. And for the foreseeable future. As Dean ascended the stairs, Castiel coloured slightly and made a sound as if to speak, but the sound trailed off and he just looked at Dean, a slight crease between his eyebrows. His shoulders drooped and for a moment, Dean was struck by how insignificant he looked at that moment.

Dressed in a pair of reasonably clean sweats and an old grey shirt of Dean's, Castiel looked haggard and lost. Gone was the protector, the guardian, and in his place was a man broken by loss and shame. An angel without wings.

"I… I wish to rest, Dean. But I am unused to the practise." Castiel certainly sounded exhausted. "I find it… difficult. I do not know how." He shifted uncomfortably.

"Are you _serious_? You haven't _slept_ since you've been down here?" Dean said, incredulously. "You're running on empty, dude." He scoffed slightly, but at the weariness in Cas' eyes, he softened his tone. "Look, man, I… Sorry. What can I do?" If Castiel wasn't sleeping, it wouldn't be long before he was worse than useless. But it wasn't as if Dean cared about that. Cas was here, wasn't he? And he'd be damned if that wasn't enough, at least for the moment.

"It is not of import, Dean. I did not wish for you to feel obliged to help. I simply wondered if you could advise me." Castiel cocked his head to the side, a gesture so reminiscent of his old self that if not for his shabby appearance and defeatist expression, Dean might have mistaken him for the angel he used to be.

Dean ran a hand through his hair, trying to think how to describe sleeping to someone who'd never had the need to do it. "I don't know, man, just… Lie there, I guess? Brush your teeth or whatever and just get in the bed," he said, shrugging, "I suppose you'll just drop off."

Castiel's alarmed expression made him raise an eyebrow. "What?" Dean asked. Castiel shook his head slowly.

"I… The brush on the shelf in the bathroom looks uncomfortable, if not a little large, to use on my mouth, Dean… Are you certain-" He started, baffled. Dean snorted.

"Dude, not the hairbrush. Toothbrush, you know?" When Castiel continued to stare, not replying, Dean shook his head bemusedly. "A couple of thousand years spying on humans and you don't know how to brush your teeth? You've been watching the wrong stuff, dude." He walked past Cas and gestured into the bedroom they'd given him. "Get in there, Cas. I'll show you." He sighed, a corner of his mouth quirking up at the other man's confusion.

"Do not worry yourself, Dean. I am sure I can get by without the brushing." Castiel spoke as though he expected Dean to admonish him for not knowing this little thing.

"Cas! Gross, man! You have to brush your teeth. You'll get plaque and all that crap. C'mon, dude, you have to learn this stuff sometime. May as well be now." Dean disappeared through the door, leaving Castiel with little choice but to follow him through into the bathroom.

Dean opened one of the cupboards, muttering to himself. "_Doesn't know how to brush his teeth…_ I could've sworn we bought… There." He fished out a clear packet of plastic toothbrushes. "What colour?" He grinned at Castiel, holding out the packet.

"It does not matter to me, Dean." Castiel replied, a small crease between his brows.

"Well, pick anyway. It's the little things, Cas." Dean looked at him expectantly.

"Green, then. Although I don't see what this has to do with-" As Castiel began to question it, Dean cut him off.

"Never mind. Alright. Take it. And here's the toothpaste." He held out the tube of toothpaste and the brush to Castiel, who took both tentatively and moved towards the sink as Dean turned the tap on. "Seriously, man, if someone told me I'd ever be teaching an angel to brush his teeth, I'd have laughed in their face. You're really something."

"I'm not an angel, Dean…" Castiel replied, sadly, and Dean cursed himself inwardly. Way to go, Dean, he thought. Foot securely in mouth again. Clearing his throat, Dean turned away for a moment and picked at a scrape on his hand. "I… I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean…" As he turned back, his eyes widened with disbelief.

Castiel had unscrewed the toothpaste and was squeezing the stuff _straight into his mouth_.

"Dude, no! Not like that… Put it _on_ the toothbrush. I won't brush your teeth for you, Cas. There's a limit to my help, seriously. Spit it out." He gestured to the sink and Castiel obligingly spat out the toothpaste.

"It was not a pleasant taste or sensation."

"Yeah, well. You aren't supposed to eat it." Dean rolled his eyes. He sat down on the edge of the - completely larger than necessary - bathtub and watched as Castiel painstakingly squeezed the toothpaste onto the brush. He put the tube down and looked at Dean for further instructions. Amazed at Castiel's lack of knowledge about such basic things, he raised an eyebrow.

"Put the brush in your mouth and just sort of… move it around? This is so weird to describe, I swear…" Dean thought he'd leave Cas to it, as he seemed to be getting the hang of it. "After about a minute or two, spit the foam out and wash your mouth. Leave the brush wherever, it's yours. Like hell anybody wants your germs, dude. That's one thing we _do not_ share." Dean looked pointedly at Castiel's borrowed clothes and Cas flushed slightly but didn't attempt to reply past the toothbrush in his mouth, returning his focus to brushing his teeth.

Dean hung around the room for a couple of minutes, sitting down on the bed and casting a cursory glance around at Cas' few possessions. A slightly scuffed duffle bag, a few leaflets, a road map. The guy didn't have much, that was for sure. Castiel left the bathroom, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth, hair sticking up in all directions.

"Thank you, Dean." He said, quietly. The usual shadow of stubble on his face had turned to what was practically a full beard, and Dean felt a pang of regret at not helping him with the basic things as soon as he'd arrived. Castiel just looked so… So overly and unashamedly _grateful_ at that moment, that Dean didn't even have the heart to make fun of him.

"Don't worry about it. Tomorrow, shaving." He cracked a smile, looking up at the other man, and Castiel's mouth twisted upwards as well, but it did not reach his eyes. He came closer to Dean and sat down on the bed next to him.

"You are a good man, Dean. I'm glad to be here… with you." As always, he spoke with a painful honesty which made Dean want to hide before he said something stupid or worse, _emotional_.

"Alright, dude. I'm glad you're here, Cas. You alright to sleep or…" Dean trailed off uncertainly. "You want me to stay?" He tried again. A ghost of a smile appeared on Castiel's face, but he shook his head.

"Thank you. I will manage now, I believe. I suppose I will eventually… drop off, as you said." Castiel said, mildly. He spoke quietly and Dean felt like he should say something, _anything_, but the words escaped him as he opened his mouth.

As he stood up, Dean's hand brushed Castiel's and he jumped as if burned. Castiel only watched him as he walked over to the door, speaking just as he crossed the threshold.

"Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Cas." Dean muttered. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and tried not to think about how strange - and oddly comforting - it was, to have the angel need _him _for once, instead of the other way around.


End file.
